Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
SKYE
Ibarely slept the night after we discovered my mother had been used as the tool of a higher demon. How could I? I lay awake and stared at the ceiling, Daniel’s soft, even breathing the only sound in the room, and wondered if I made this whole situation worse.
Obviously, it’s my fault this happened to her.
She never would have been targeted if she wasn’t my mom.
But more than that, if I’d agreed to speak with her sooner, if I had stopped Jennie from rushing me and Connor out that first day…
would we have realized earlier? Been able to break the connection a whole precious week ago?
What kind of long-term effects might this have on her?
Gabe says none, since she didn’t trade anything to the demon or willingly make a deal, but how can he know that for sure?
And if what Connor said was true, that the connection could only influence her to do things she was already considering… well, that means she’d thought about coming home. Maybe it was only to tell me that my life sucked, but it was still a decision she made because she was concerned for me. Right?
I don’t even know if that makes sense. I haven’t slept in about thirty hours, and my brain is a fog of exhaustion, confusion, and guilt.
Kieran kicked me out of the office after I fucked up inventory for the third time.
We told him what happened, and although he yelled at Connor for thirty straight minutes, he’s been nothing but sympathetic to me.
Which means I’m wandering aimlessly around the estate midafternoon on a Thursday. Maybe I’ll go into town and find Tom. If he’s doing rideshare, I can tag along with him for a bit.
It’s a relief when my phone rings, even when I see it’s Mom. Especially, maybe.
“Hello?” I gasp, anxious to hear that she’s okay.
There’s a brief, startled pause. “Skye?”
“Yes. Hi, Mom. Are… How are you feeling?”
She swallows audibly. “Okay. I had a slight headache yesterday, but that’s all. I feel foolish, to be honest. I can’t believe I was taken in like that. I had no idea.”
“From what I understand, that’s normal. It’s not your fault.”
“Yes, well…”
“And your house is okay?” I ask, not sure what else to say.
“Oh, yes. I called a neighbor to check, and Jill had someone from their Chicago office go as well. How do you even know her and the others?”
“Uh… they work with Connor.” It’s still trippy to me that she doesn’t remember the whole thing.
“That’s nice.” An awkward silence falls. “Is this a good time for us to talk?”
My hesitation is brief, but she takes it as encouragement. “I know I upset you, and I’m sorry for that. I’d really like to talk.”
Every part of me yearns to just hang up, but…
she’s my mom. And she just apologized. Yeah, she broke my heart—more than once—and I don’t think we’ll ever have a good relationship.
But I’d like some kind of resolution. I don’t want the last time I spoke to her to be when she was under the influence of a demon puppeteer.
“I’m listening.”
“Could… Can I buy you a coffee?”
That’s a hard no. The last thing I want right now is to be humiliated and hurt in a public place again. I’ve provided enough gossip fodder for the town lately, thanks.
“Let’s stick to talking on the phone for now.
” I look around, but the garden is mostly empty this time of the afternoon, and there’s nobody close enough to listen—unless one of the ghosts is eavesdropping, but there’s no way for me to know that.
I sit down right there on the patch of lawn between two flower beds, the sun warming me, the drone of bees and other insects a comforting background hum.
If Mom is going to say something hurtful again, at least I’ll have these gardens Daniel works so hard on to comfort me.
“Okay,” she agrees, and I relax a little. “Let me say again that I’m sorry I upset you that day. I-I… My intentions were good, but I can see how my approach was off.”
The tension returns. She can see how her approach was off? What would be a good approach to telling me my whole life sucks? I say nothing.
“I’m not going to lie and tell you I regret leaving. I don’t. I’m sorry if that hurts you, but leaving here was the best thing I could have done—for all of us. You were probably too little to remember, but none of us were happy—”
“I remember.” Things were always tense in the house, even when they were good on the surface.
My parents’ marriage would never have lasted, even if she had stayed.
Maybe they would have dragged it out until I finished school or something, but the thought of over a decade more of that tense misery makes me glad she left.
“Okay, good. I mean, not good. But… Anyway, I don’t regret leaving, but I do regret the way I did it.
I should have stayed in touch with you—and Kevin.
He tried his best to be a good husband, and he was always a great parent.
We were friends before… before, and I should have tried to maintain that friendship.
I should have asked for visitation with you.
You could have spent the occasional weekend and vacation with me.
” She stops and takes a shaky breath. “I do love you, Skye. You have every right not to believe that, but it’s true.
I’m… If things had been different, I never would have chosen to be a parent, but that doesn’t mean I’m sorry you were born.
I just… didn’t have it in me to be a full-time mom.
Especially not then, when I was so young and angry. ”
I clear my throat and swipe at my wet eyes.
“I get it,” I manage hoarsely. I don’t really…
I’ve always wanted to be a parent one day.
But I understand that not everyone is like me and would make the same choices as me.
And it heals something deep down to know that my mother didn’t hate me.
That she didn’t leave because of a fault in me.
“Thank you for saying that. I’m always going to regret that I wasn’t the best parent to you that I could have been, whatever that would have looked like. Cutting you completely out of my life was a mistake I’m going to have to live with forever.”
Wow. Okay. I try not to sniffle. “I appreciate you telling me this.”
“I’m not done,” she assures me, and there’s a tremor in her voice that makes me think she might be trying to hold back tears too. “When I was talking to my parents and they updated me on your life…”
I cringe. I’d half forgotten the whole reason for this call.
“…I panicked. I… forgot that you’re not me. For a little while, I was dragged back to that time when I was so unhappy, and all I could think was that the bright, creative, special little boy I remembered was being forced to live that same hell.”
“My life isn’t hell,” I protest hotly.
“I know, and I’m so glad you’ve found your place here.
But right then, it just seemed like history was repeating, and I’d been feeling like trash for years over leaving you.
It was… It felt like I was being offered the perfect opportunity to swoop in and rescue you, reconnect with you.
And when Marc encouraged me, not even my guilt at having been gone so long could keep me away. I’m so, so sorry.”
A tiny seed of hope takes root deep inside me. “You really hurt me,” I say. I’m not sure if I mean that day outside the bakery or when she left us. Both, probably.
“I hate that I did that. It was never what I wanted.”
Resentment and anger begin to fade. I don’t think they’ll ever fully disappear, but they’re no longer the strongest emotions I feel toward my mom. “I guess… maybe we could meet for coffee before you leave town.” I hold my breath.
“I’d love that,” she says so fast, I grin and tears fill my eyes again.
“I know you don’t need a mom now, and god knows I’m not maternal, but I’d really like it if we could be friends?
You could come and visit me in Chicago—and your boyfriend.
Do you still love pasta? There’s this amazing place near my apartment. ”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “That sounds good.”